


Thunder

by Semi_problematic



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 10:26:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14735216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_problematic/pseuds/Semi_problematic
Summary: "Please make sure Maggie and Daryl don't get their hands on him. Ricks orders-""Carls." The smile on Taras face should have been sad, but it wasn't. Some people weren't sad about him. Jesus believed that it was good he got a break. After growing up in this world, after being shot and chased and tormented, he deserved to say goodbye. Rick, though, Rick still couldn't handle it. "But I understand!"





	Thunder

"What the hell?" Rick shouted as he aced around the room. There was a cot and chains attached to the walls, on the door was a big lock. "How the hell did he escape?" He punched the wall, not hard enough to break but just enough to dent it. "Aaron was on duty-" 

"It was shift change." Rosita cut him off. "Shift change has been hard and he's been here a month. He learned the times and probably how to sneak out. There is a window in here-" 

"A window on the second story of a house." Tara added, crossing her arms over his chest. "Where does he think he will go? Everything has been looted. No one wants him. The Sanctuary has been taken apart. The only thing left is the damn building."

"We're wasting time." Michonne stood in the doorway, shaking her head. "No one would have let him out, we have two people watching the gate and there is no way he found a weapon, they're all locked up or on our bodies." She snapped her fingers and stepped out of the doorway. "He's still inside. Spread out and don't be afraid to shoot him, just don't aim for anything important." 

"Can I shoot him in the neck?" Rosita smirked. She pulled her gun out and admired it, her hair flowing behind her as she raced down the stairs after Michonne. "I mean, you said anything important, I'm sure he can live without a neck-" 

"I already got the neck." Rick sighed, gripping his hatchet. He turned and walked towards the back door. "And no head shots! Keeping him alive and suffering was the entire point!" He shoved the door open and walked out, slamming the door behind him. Rosita followed, waving goodbye to the other two before disappearing out the door. 

"I'm gonna aim for his legs." Tara mumbled, pulling her hair into a pony tail. "Maybe even shoot him more than once. We won't have to worry about him running around anymore. Problem solved." She checked her gun before moving away from Michonne. "I'm gonna sweep up on the gates and the houses that live right in front of them. You got your walkie?" 

"Yep." Michonne pulled it out of her belt and held it up. "Good luck!" She stopped for a minute. "Oh, and Tara?" She turned and looked at her. "Please make sure Maggie and Daryl don't get their hands on him. Ricks orders-" 

"Carls." The smile on Taras face should have been sad, but it wasn't. Some people weren't sad about him. Jesus believed that it was good he got a break. After growing up in this world, after being shot and chased and tormented, he deserved to say goodbye. Rick, though, Rick still couldn't handle it. "But I understand!" 

Michonne turned around without saying a word. She gripped her sword in one hand as she walked up and down the streets. The key to Alexandria was feeling normal, weapons weren't normal but they were easy to look past, no one panicked at he sight of them anymore. But an escaped inmate that murdered more than enough of their people? That would terrify them. Part of Michonne kept thinking about Carl. How he would've been the first out to find Negan and bring him back. 

Carl was a soldier, he worked harder than most of the people there, but not because be had to. Carl worked hard because he wanted to prove himself. He was always the kid tagging along, and once he got older he became the kid with one eye. The world was always against him, stacking the odds higher and higher every day. Carl wanted to prove that having him around was helpful, that he was important. No matter how many time Rick, Michonne, or anyone else told him he was important he would deny it. It was impossible for Carl to believe he was needed, he was always too busy proving himself to see how loved he was, now needed and important he was. 

The sun was gone by the time Michonne, Rick, Rosita, and Tara met back up again. There had been no sign of Negan, not in the houses or bushes, not hiding by the fence or even trying to dig away out. It was like the man just disappeared, without a trail or anything stolen. They tried to make the meeting as calm as possible, no yelling, and no one saying the name of who was gone. Rick had already checked houses with Rosita and that was as suspicious as they could get. Telling people would risk scaring everyone and causing chaos. 

"Okay..." Rosita ran her fingers through her hair. She had been tying it back and pulling it back down nervously. They all knew Negan was dangerous, just none of them were admitting it. "How about we do another walk around? We all just check places and remind people to lock their doors in case the walls get breached. It'll freak them out a bit but it's not as bad as saying... assface is on the loose." 

"Yeah, but we already checked their houses. There's no bodies. No reports of seeing anything remotely weird... maybe he just..." Tara sighed. "I don't know. He couldn't have disappeared but people used to say zombies would never happen and here we ar-" 

"Alright," Rick looked between them. "We do one more walk through and make it thorough. We find him or we don't. We remind everyone to lock doors and... and then we up security and sleep with one eye open." Rick gripped his gun, looking around. People were heading home, no one liked staying out after dark. Not even when they were safe in the walls, because the truth is, you're never safe. "Lets go..." 

Silently, they walked away from each other, all heading in different directions. Michonne didn't want to believe Negan would kill someone, he had, but he was different now. Without all the power his people gave him he seemed almost normal. What he did was unforgivable and he was still annoying, but slowly they were beginning to see the Negan that Carl had seen. The smart, funny Negan who wasn't self centered all the time, only a good ninety percent. 

Maggie wasn't handling it well, neither was Rick, both if them were angry at Negan for a million different reasons. Some people agreed with Rick, that Negan needed to be shown who was in control and that a new world can be made without violence and power hungry leaders. Some disagreed, saying that the man didn't deserve to live because he didn't regret what he did, the only ones suffering were the ones who had been wronged by him. They had to live life knowing that three houses over was the man who wanted them dead. It was hard. 

Michonne didn't bother using one of the flashlights she carried, it was pointless when most of the houses were still lit up. Amber colored light shined down on the road she walked on, the light catching in the blade of her sword. She gripped it tighter, making sure to listen for any noise that seemed out of place. Laughing and talking was normal at this hour, so was crying, but not running. There was a curfew of sun down in the summer, no children were allowed to be out once the sun was completely gone from the sky. It was too dangerous having them run around at night. Everything got worse at night. 

Lights began to disappear as people went to bed, the only light left was the light from the second floor rooms that trickled down and barely lit the roads. Finding Negan started to feel hopeless. How was he hiding so well? They scanned all the houses and talked to all the people. No one could climb the walls and no one had tried to get underneath them. There was no sign of anyone trying to get out through the main entrance. Where the hell could he be? Michonne reached down to grab her walkie talkie, stopping. One more sweep wouldn't hurt, she told herself, Carl would find him.

Carl. 

Michonne smiled to herself, shaking her head. She didn't know how she could've been so stupid. Negan had been hung up on Carls death like the rest of them and as much as it hurt to admit, Carl meant something to him. They were all allowed to mourn, talk to people, but Negan was shut off. Rick always told him that he wasn't allowed to mention Carl, if he did Rick would beat him until he passed out. In Ricks mind, a man like Negan wasn't deserving of knowing Carl. In Michonnes mind, though, a man like Negan deserved a boy like Carl. 

Michonne walked down the road, smiling at one of the people who sat on their front porch smoking. She didn't understand how people could escape death then find comfort in something that could kill them, but at the same time she understood it. Living in a world like this was all about taking risks. Doing dangerous things and hoping you stay a live. So what if you have a cigarette after fighting the dead to celebrate that you didn't get bit or scratched or killed. Michonne didn't like admitting it, but she was resentful to people who returned unharmed. It was rude to blame them, to be angry, but Carl deserved to run through the gates and hug her and be okay. God, what Michonne would do to hug him one more time. 

Candles burned inside the church, lighting up small patches of the graveyard. Tiny pieces of wood were stabbed into the ground, names carved into the wood. It was heartbreaking to come into the graveyard, Michonne tried her best to avoid it. She wanted her last memory to be how strong the people were, how they survived, not their body buried six feet under with their name on a rotten piece of wood. Carls was near the middle, not too close to the front, Rick didn't want to have to look at it, but not too close to back so that it looked like they hid him, forgot him.

In front of his grave was Negan. Hunched down and silent. His hand was extended, thumb tracing his name over and over. "I knew you would find me," He said. "I'm surprised Rick didn't." He was also glad. "I don't have any weapons on me." He raised both of his hands. "Just here to say the goodbyes that your good little cop doesn't think I deserve." 

"Okay," Michonne trusted him. When it came to Carl, Negan never did anything rude. He wouldn't kill Carls best friend just because he wanted others to suffer. Negans moral compass was blurry, but not when it came to Carl. "I knew you would be here, too. Took me a while but once I remembered... I knew you would be here." 

"Yeah, well..." Negan dropped his arms, digging at the dirt. "The kid was the future... he was gonna make this world better." Michonne wondered if Negan wanted Carl to fix him, that if whenever Carl came around he made Negan feel real again. Feel the good things, not just the fear and the anger, but also the love and the happiness. What if Carl was making Negan human? "All of you..." Negans hands curled into fists. "All of you act like I didn't lose someone-" 

"We never said that-" 

"You never did." Negan turned around, looking up at Michonne. His eyes were red, bloodshot. "Rick.." He laughed. "Rick says that it's my fault. Doesn't even have a reason. He told me that if I came anywhere near Carls grave he would blow my brains out, he said Carl was his boy-" Negan shook his head. "He was my boy too." Negan turned back around and looked at his grave. "Why can't any of you see that?" 

"Neg-"

"No." Negan shouted. Michonne hushed him. She couldn't have their people knowing he was out. "You don't get to lock me up and tell me I don't deserve to say goodbye. I'm living without him, too. The only difference between us..." He took a deep breath. "The difference between us is that you have others, I... I don't.." Carls gun shined in the light from the church. Negan gripped it in his right hand, pressing it to his temple. "I would back up if I were you." 

"Negan," Michonne whispered. "I know it hurts to lose someone, I've lost both of my boys-" A gunshot cut her off, blood splattering across her face and across the graves surrounding them. Negan fell backwards, his legs knocking Carls headstone over. She stared at his body for a moment before walking towards it. She stabbed Negan in the head before picking up the wood and stabbing it into the ground. She picked Negan up by his ankles and began to drag him.

"What was that?" Rosita asked over the walkie talkie. "I can't tell if its thunder or not. It's been so rainy lately-" 

With one hand, Michonne pulled out her walkie talkie and flicked it on. "It was thunder," She looked at his dead body. "Nothing to worry about."


End file.
